Minecraftia Besieged
by Foxtrot Agent 21
Summary: Something evil has awakened in Minecraftia's core, something more dangerous than any Minecraftian has ever seen before. It wages war against the entirety of the planet... and it's winning. Minecraftia's only hope for survival is a mission into enemy territory, into the home of horrors. Will our heroes prevail, or will their tale be lost among nightmares? You decide.
1. Chapter 1

**Minecraftia Besieged**

**The Start Of It All**

**(IMPORTANT: READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END!)**

**.- .**

Sam walked through the mineshaft happily, enjoying the warm glow the torches on the walls gave off. He was safe from monsters in such a well-lit place. He had spent many weeks making this humble mineshaft into a home for himself, one where he could escape from the outside world and just live peacefully by himself.

There was plenty to keep him occupied as he constantly discovered new tunnels and caves, some natural, some created by miners from ages past. He particularly enjoyed discovering old mineshafts, enjoying the rush that came with making a discovery of a part of history. In fact, he was on his way to search through an abandoned mineshaft he had stumbled upon late last night.

He hummed a tune as he walked through the mineshaft, his iron sword in hand as he anticipated the monsters that he knew infested the underground. He knew from experience that mobs tended to lurk in abandoned structures, though he had yet to figure out why. Or why this mineshaft didn't have any.

He had yet to see a single monster, not even the ever-present zombies. To be honest, the silence was beginning to scare him more than the thought of fighting the suicidal creepers. He stopped at an intersection and quickly looked around, heaving out a sigh of relief as he saw his first monster of the day. Then reality hit him upside the head and he readied his sword and faced the giant spider with a determined grin.

The spider was as large as a normal mob, though instead of being entirely black this one had tinges of a sickly green seeping through cracks in its exoskeleton. Despite being obviously injured, the spider moved incredibly fast closing the distance between them in mere seconds, jumping at him as he swung his blade.

His blade sliced into the spider's gut, releasing the spider's organs onto the floor. This didn't stop the abnormal spider from latching onto his left arm and biting down with its dying strength. Sam let out a yell of pain as the spider died with its fangs imbedded in his left arm. He managed to pry the creature off of his arm, but only just. Whatever venom the spider had gotten him with, it had weakened him almost immediately, and so Sam began walking towards his cave. "Maybe the villagers will have some anti-venom," Sam muttered to himself as he left his intricate and much-loved cave system, "I really don't want to wait for this to run its course."

.- .-. .

_7 Years Later_

Andrew cleaned the blood off of his blade as he sat down on the grass, looking at the carnage all around him. Monstrosities he could never have imagined lay dead on the ground, their cold bodies next to those of his comrades. He continued to stare at the horrific sight that had become commonplace. He sensed someone walking towards him and instinctively gripped his iron sword, even though he knew that the entire enemy was dead.

He looked up to see Alena, one of his closest, and last, friends. She didn't say anything as she reached him, instead offering her hand to him. He grabbed it gratefully and pulled himself up before walking with her silently across the battlefield. Going to a hill he was given a more impressive view of the scene below. Human bodies were nearly as numerous as the corpses of the enemy, often torn to pieces. The enemy was rarely clean in their methods.

He could see scattered groups of his fellow soldiers moving through the slaughter, the same ashen look that he was certain he wore. He ignored them though and continued walking with Alena towards the walled village so many had died to protect.

It had all started roughly seven years ago when a miner had brought some form of infection with him to a rather large village. No one knew the exact story, as there had been only one survivor, and that one was a kid who didn't comprehend fully what had happened to his home.

Ever since then, the adversary had grown incredibly stronger, assimilating all manner of beings into their fold. Hell, Andrew could have sworn he had seen what looked vaguely like a pig in today's fight. Somehow, over the course of seven years, the enemy had built up an army capable of waging war against the whole of Minecraftia. And Minecraftia was beginning to lose.

"How long?" Alena suddenly asked as they neared the village, her voice but a whisper.

"Until what?" Andrew asked back, surprising Alena. Obviously she hadn't meant to say that out loud. Nonetheless, she clarified.

"How long until we have to pull back? How long until we lose another village to the enemy?" Minecraftians had yet to come up with a common name for the enemy, and so they stuck to calling them what every Minecraftian, even the monsters, knew they were. The enemy.

"Well," Andrew answered after a few seconds, "it depends entirely on if we get more reinforcements. As it is, we can't withstand another head-on attack," As they walked into the walled village they received their answer.

The command tent, where the legendary hero Michael had orchestrated the battle from, was being taken down under the hero's watchful and somber gaze. Villagers were pouring out of their houses in a slow but steady stream, carrying only what they could take with them. Military guards stood on all sides of the growing mass of people, some on horseback but most on foot. Only a few had properly forged iron weapons, most wielding spears and bows. With the enemy constantly redefining its borders in increasingly aggressive ways Minecraftians had been given less and less time to create weapons to combat them.

And yet they continued to throw everything they had at the enemy, determined not to give in to such horrid creatures. They were Minecraftians, after all! They had faced zombies, skeletons, giant spiders, Creepers, and even the mysterious Endermen for centuries. They would not give up now, not when they had finally begun to claim the world! And so the wretched War of Attrition continued.

Andrew stalked over to Michael, Alena hot on his feet, as he whirled the slightly older man around. Andrew was fully prepared to blast his commander for ordering a retreat, but his words died unspoken as he saw the other man's face.

Michael looked absolutely furious, and not at Andrew. His blue eyes were narrowed as he glared at Andrew, before he very obviously struggled to regain control of himself. "I know what you're going to say, Andrew," Michael's voice sounded too old to be his, though there was a spark in them that told Andrew that his leader had not given up, "and I regret to inform you that we have been ordered to withdraw by the higher-ups."

"We have higher-ups?" Alena questioned before Andrew could, somehow managing to sound both bored and curious at the same time.

"Of course we do!" Michael growled out, "Just because they prefer to hide deep in our lines doesn't mean that they don't exist. They're just safe and cozy out of harm's way."

A loud cough drew their attention and the group turned to look up at a man on horseback who was glaring down at Michael. The man looked too clean to have just been from battle, so Andrew concluded that the man was likely from the safe zone. "I'd be careful what you say if I were you, Michael," the man spit out Michael's name as if it was distasteful; "The council's patience runs thin with you."

"Well then," Michael replied mockingly, "It's a good thing you're not me! Because that'd mean I'd be a gutless coward who hides under the skirts of those blasted council members. You go back to your masters and tell them to prepare a war meeting. I've had just about enough of them interfering in my work."

The man glared hatefully at Michael, looking as though he was about to respond, before obviously thinking better of it. "It'll be a shame to lose such a good soldier," was all the man said before turning his horse and galloping off into the distance.

When Michael turned around he looked even angrier than before. "You two, go join the others around the villagers. Our new objective is to get them from here to Stonewall safely. Now get moving!"

Andrew did as commanded, albeit grudgingly. He could feel Alena following on his heels and he couldn't help but sigh as he fell in line beside the other soldiers, staring out into the mass of villagers. They looked scared and defeated, dirty and hungry, and Andrew knew they'd only get more so. The journey to Stonewall would further demoralize them, but at least once they got there they'd be able to get a decent meal.

Andrew turned to look at Alena, who was still staring into the crowd. "How many underage recruits do you think we'll get from this batch?"

Alena took a moment to think before answering, "Easily a dozen. If you look closely enough you can see it starting on their faces."

Indeed, there were a few boys and girls showing rage at being forced from their homes by the enemy. They'd eventually fake their age and join up with the Unified Minecraftian Army, and soon after die on the battlefield, if they were lucky. Andrew didn't want to think about the unlucky ones just yet.

From the rear of the mass, Michael gave the order to begin marching. Everyone present turned and began the long journey to Stonewall. Despite the danger and the horrors he had just endured, Andrew found only one thought in his head. 'I hope they've got warm rooms in Stonewall. I'm tired of this autumn air.'

.-. . .-. ..-. . -.-. - .. - -.

Several hours later, Andrew sat with his back to an impressively large rock, observing the routines of civilians and soldiers alike. The soldiers' all got settled in the efficient fashion that they had grown accustomed to. The civilians, however, looked complexly lost. Each was searching for a soft place to sleep, some place safe and close to others. There was a steady murmur that hadn't heard before in camp, likely brought on by the scared villagers.

He felt a body fall down next to his and turned to see Alena looking more tired than he'd ever seen. He almost fooled himself that it was because of their long march. Almost. Alena was one of the strongest people he had ever known and seeing her look this defeated got to him more than he'd ever admit.

"What's up?" he asked as he turned his gaze back to the crowd. He could feel her eyes on him before she joined him in people watching.

"Why do we fight?" she asked after a long silence, never taking her eyes off of the settling crowd.

"Because we have to," Andrew chuckled mirthlessly, "After all, we can't just roll over and die. We have people to protect. Who'll protect all of the civilians if all of the soldiers were to up and leave?"

"When did you become so good with words?" Alena sighed, causing Andrew to smile.

"That's what you said to me when you convinced me to fight this war."

"Huh. I'm pretty smart, aren't I?" Alena asked smugly and Andrew looked over to see a smile on her face.

"Yep, you sure are," Andrew laughed happily for the first time in a long time, and it felt good. It didn't sound right in their current situation, the echoes dying off as quickly as they had begun. A somber mood once again enveloped the pair and frowns soon adorned their faces. Alena sighed once more and stared up at the sky, "You go to sleep, and I'll take first watch." Andrew didn't reply, instead moving himself down to lie down, and then he waited for sleep to overtake him. It did so quickly.

The nightmares began soon after.

- .- -.. .

He swung his sword down onto a monster of flesh and metal, a feeling of satisfaction coming over him as the creature's head rolled off of its shoulders. The satisfaction was short-lived as he turned towards a very humanoid monster, clashing swords with the literally gutless creature. Despite looking like a pitiful pile of metal, sinew, and bones, the creature was strong, easily parrying his blows.

As he battled what had once been a human, Andrew was unaware of another monster moving quickly towards him until it was right behind him. He whirled around in time to see what he had assumed had once been a Creeper explode right next to him. Andrew flew back through the air and crashed into the side of a hill, time slowing down as he opened his eyes for what he knew would be the last time. Soldiers of the enemy crept forward in slow motion, grisly grins on their faces as they surrounded their prey. And then all of it stopped. Andrew's eyes widened as he felt his dream slowly grow more lucid as everything got slower. Except him.

He stood up from the ground, all of the pain suddenly gone. He looked out over the various monstrosities, none of which so much as twitched. He gazed at the seemingly infinite mass of the enemy, his eyes coming to a halt on a towering rock that seemed darker than obsidian. Atop the rock stood a creature of the enemy that Andrew had never seen before, though its mere presence sent chills through his body. It looked to be made of metal and sinews, all traces of skin gone to reveal humongous muscles beneath its detailed armor. It had a helmet obscuring most of its face, all except for its jaws, which were parted in what Andrew could only assume was a smile. The creature was huge; easily three times the size of the fabled Ender Dragon, and it looked easily capable of tearing anything it came across limb from limb.

The monster was grinning at something in its clawed hands, though Andrew couldn't make out what it was. Curiosity starting to kill him, Andrew went to make a step forwards but was stopped by a single hand on his chest.

To his right a man hidden in a brown cloak had suddenly appeared. Normally Andrew would've reacted violently to being startled, but something about this man made him feel… at ease.

"I've stopped your dream for the moment," the man told him in a kind, old voice, "but if you move too much it's likely my grasp will loosen and the enemy will get you once again."

Andrew shivered, remembering all the nightmares he had had about the enemy. "Who are you?" he asked the cloaked man, his eyes flitting back to the giant monster.

"That's not important right now," the man chuckled before gesturing to a man who Andrew sure hadn't been there a second ago. "I've seen this same dream many times in your head, and while you are not fully able to comprehend it, I am. In order to stop this dream from becoming reality, you must save this man."

The man wore a black cloak just like the mysterious man before him, though his was burnt and ripped I multiple places. The man in black stood just out of reach of the onslaught of the enemy, appearing to just be staring into the masses of horrors. A dark liquid dripped from both of his hands steadily, beginning to pool on the ground beneath him.

"What's so special about him?" Andrew asked, his eyes glued to the man in black. In response, the man in brown snapped his fingers and the man in black was suddenly right in front of Andrew, the stranger's glowing white eyes peering into his soul.

Herobrine looked much different from what Andrew had heard about him as a boy, especially now that the enemy had gotten to him. Black tears, what Andrew could only assume was oil, streamed out of the god's eyes, trailing past his maniacal smile. His black cloak was torn open at the front to reveal a hollow gut, scraps of metal holding the being together. As Andrew stared into the face of Death he heard the man in brown talking to him, his voice coming from all directions, "If you fail to stop this fate then the enemy will become unstoppably powerful. With Herobrine at their forefront they will slaughter all uninfected beings until only the enemy remains."

Andrew gulped almost audibly, looking into the eyes that had lost all hints of life and sanity, before turning to the man still hidden within his brown cloak. "What do I have to do?"

..-. .-.. . ... ...

**In a few days or weeks, I'll set up a poll where you all can vote on whether or not the now united Minecraftians win in their epic struggle against an unknown enemy. I know some of you like to root for a bad guy, so I'll allow you to make your voices heard. **

**Also, you all can vote on if you want mob talker in this. I'll leave it entirely up to you guys, because I don't care either way. The one thing that is certain is that mobs no longer attack Minecraftians. In fact, they work with them. So with that in mind, I hope you stick around.**

**Please review and I'll see you next time around.**

_**detiaw evah ew dna ,ecafrus eht dehctaw evah eW**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Minecraftia Besieged**

**Our Only Hope**

**(The poll is up, start VOTING!)**

**- ..- .-.**

Andrew awoke from his sleep with a start to find Alena looming over him, a frown on her face. "It's time to get going Andrew," she told him as she stuck out her hand, "C'mon, get up." He grabbed onto her hand and pulled himself up, looking around to see everyone else ready to go- and staring at him.

"What's going on?" he asked, scanning the crowd that was gradually dispersing.

Alena opened her mouth to speak but Michael's familiar voice interrupted her, "You were raving like a madman in your sleep. We tried to wake you but you wouldn't snap out of it." Andrew looked up at the blonde-haired man who was peering intently at him. Michael cut a fearsome figure no matter how you looked at him. He was taller than the average man and heavily muscled from years of training. He wore immaculate armor that covered him from head to toe and a large broadsword was sheathed at his hip. He had piercing, ice-blue eyes that seemed to look into your soul and a deep commanding voice that made everyone around him automatically follow his orders. All in all, a very impressive soldier. "You have a bad dream?"

There was a loaded question. "I hope so, sir," he replied in a subdued voice, "though it was like no dream I've ever had before."

"How so?" Alena finally interrupted, worry etched across her face.

"It wasn't an oil dream, don't worry. I'll tell you about it later." Alena visibly relaxed at that, nodding tersely and motioning for her to follow her into the line that had begun to form. As he followed he grew aware of Michael staring at him intently. "Is something the matter sir?"

He took a few moments to reply. "Nothing to worry about right now. But we _will_ talk once we're safely within Stonewall's walls." With that, Andrew's commander walked away to the front of the line, leaving Andrew to nod at his back. The young man jogged over to where Alena was waiting for him and quickly fell into step with the other soldiers.

Not thirty seconds into the march he felt a shove on his shoulder and an ugly voice whispering in his ear. "You having oil dream, Cenric? Are you finally infected?"

"Shut it, Ed," Andrew whispered furiously back to the man who chuckled in response. Ed slowed his pace a little and spoke a little louder, "You know, I always thought that you would go down in the middle of a battle. But this? This is just sad. Whatever are we going to do without such a mediocre soldier fighting alongside us? We're definitely screwed now."

"Shut your trap, you bastard, before I shut it for you," Cenric growled out, hands clenched at his sides.

"Oh, you don't scare me, Dead Man," Edward replied smugly before he felt a cold blade pressed against his throat. "How about me, Eddy?" Alena questioned innocently, her dagger at the plain man's throat, "Do I scare you?" He didn't bother to speak, instead staring wide-eyed at the woman. "Good. Now get your ass to the back of the line." Alena sheathed her blade and both she and Andrew smiled as they heard Edward's sullen and angry steps going away.

"Don't let him get to you, Andrew," Alena told him, looking at him kindly, "That man is no better a pile of crap. Smells worse than one, too." The pair chuckled at that, though they soon lapsed into worried silence. Alena was worried that Edward, as much of a prick as he was, might be right; what if Andrew did have an oil dream?

Oil dreams were one of the first causes and signs of those infected by the enemy. The infected would have the same nightmare of a voice, deep and ancient and deadly, calling out to them, urging them to join the enemy. It showed them countless horrors which the victims refused to recount. Apparently, whatever it was that they saw was enough to scare them quiet, because the infected would never tell of anything more than the voice, the voice that told them to slaughter their allies. Oil dreams were unmistakable in that aspect.

But Andrew said he hadn't had an oil dream and he had heard what they were like. So that meant he wasn't infected. Right?

...- - .. -.-. .

As they approached Stonewall Michael couldn't help but cringe at the sight of it. Once, long ago, he would have been awe-struck at its immense walls and size. Now, it just made him sick. He had no desire to meet with the council, no matter the reason. What could a bunch of old men and women, who had never seen a battlefield in their lives, know about war? Sighing, he ordered his men to retire to the barracks, watching them as they went. His eyes locked onto one of them in particular and his constant frown increased in severity.

Andrew Cenric was nothing special, as far as soldiers went. He was a little shorter than the average man and he didn't really have a lot of muscle to make up for it. He had a mess of dark brown hair atop his head that stopped just above his brown eyes. He wore rather sparse armor compared to Michael and his sword was just a little longer than a short sword. He made a sore sight, looking too weary to walk left alone use his blade. And yet, Michael saw potential in the younger man. He had survived for three years on the frontlines, through no small effort of his own. Michael had a feeling that the man would see the end of this conflict, one way or another. Especially if Alena stuck by his side.

When he had first seen Alena, he had seen a brash girl eager to fight a war and having no idea of the consequences; he was certain she wouldn't last long. He had been surprised when not only had she survived her first battle, but she had also become stronger as a result. The redhead had quickly lost her naïve glorification of war and instead devoted herself to training to make sure she and Andrew survived at all costs. She had been athletic from the start and being in the army had only furthered her in that respect. Needless to say, she was one of his favorite soldiers.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he briskly walked through the city to the council building, a huge building at the very center of town. It was taller than the buildings around it and definitely wider, more so than it needed to be. Just another extravagance that the council enjoyed while their citizens suffered all around them.

He shoved open the door to the building to see the entire council already there, their trademark scowls directed at him. Silence loomed over the building, interrupted only by the sound of his armor clanking as he walked across the marble floor. Coming to a stop at a podium positioned in the very middle of the building, he looked at each of the council members in turn. "So," he finally said, "you guys want to tell me just what the Nether I'm doing here?"

It was a bald man who spoke first, his voice disapproving, "Language, Mr. Bladehold. To the matter of your being called back, we have received a vital report from one of our deep-cover scouts." Michael raised an eyebrow at that. Deep-cover scouts were those that had gone deep into the enemy's territory starting four years ago. And they hadn't sent a "vital" report since the first year.

"What'd it say?"

This time a woman, who was quite possibly older than the building, answered him, "We've found the enemy's stronghold." This time both of his eyebrows up. "And even better, we've received word that their leaders are gathering there in a month's time."

Michael reigned in his expressions, choosing to put on a neutral face. "So what am I supposed to do about it? It'd be a suicide mission to get to them, let alone kill them."

"Killing them won't be a problem," the leader of the council, a small, old man named Norn, told him, "We have a new type of bomb that has enough force to destroy bedrock. We want you and your troops to fight your way into the stronghold and set them off, thus destroying their leadership and a vast majority of them. That is, of course, if you accept?"

"You want me to throw away the lives of my men?" Michael asked quietly, though the council could hear him loud and clear.

"In order to destroy the enemy, yes," Norn replied easily, "Let's be honest, Michael, they signed up to throw their lives away at this point. We can't even hope to win this war unless you and your troops complete this task. They're going to die eventually; it's all just a matter of when and how. Let them die making a difference, or refuse and watch them slowly be slaughtered by the enemy."

Michael processed what Norn said, hating the man immensely, but knowing the truth in his words. They were losing, and badly at that. The way things were going, without a miracle, they'd be dead within another year, at best. But to send dozens of men to their certain deaths? Who could do that? Simple; he could. "Alright then, I agree to the mission."

"Excellent, the specifics are in your quarters. Leave in the morning."

-.-. .- .-.. .-.. ...

_Early The Next Day._

Andrew was panicking. Well, that's an understatement. In truth, he was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Most people wouldn't be surprised by this. After all, he'd been fighting nightmares for three consecutive years, it was entirely understandable. Except that wasn't why he was freaking out. The cause of his dread was a small patch of skin on his right hand that had been hidden by his glove. The only thing was that it wasn't a patch of skin. It was actually a black metal substance that was growing out of his skin.

While oil dreams were a sign of infection, they weren't a sure way of telling if someone had been infected. Some people who had merely heard of them would have a breakdown after having a nightmare that they thought was an oil dream. Needless to say, these individuals hadn't been infected. The surest way to find out if a person was infected was a physical sweep of their person. Those infected would grow metal out of their flesh; much like Andrew had growing out of him.

This made it clear to Andrew; he was infected. The dream he had with Herobrine and the man in brown had been an oil dream. The man in brown had obviously been the voice that all the others had heard in their oil dreams. He was screwed. He felt tears rush to his eyes as he stared at the smooth metal that was transforming his skin. His days were numbered now and he knew it. "Hey, Andrew, get ready to go." A voice interrupted his self-pity and panic. Alena. "We've got a new mission and Michael wants to leave as soon as possible. You alright in there?"

Andrew's scared eyes flitted to the door of his room. "Y-yeah, I'm fine," he lied, "I'll be out in a moment."

"Okay, we'll be waiting for you at the gates." He listened until he couldn't hear her footsteps anymore before getting up. He attempted to pull himself out of his fear but he couldn't do it. what was he supposed to do now? He couldn't tell anyone about it; they'd kill him. He didn't want to die yet. But he also didn't want to become one of those things. What was he supposed to do?

What was Alena going to do without him?

That thought snapped him out of it. He had to be strong for Alena. And he had to kill as many of the enemy before the infection killed him. there was no way in hell that he'd go down without a fight.

With his newfound conviction Andrew began to put on his armor and exited his room, heading for the gates. This may be his last mission, but he would make damned sure it was successful, no matter the odds.

- ..- -

**Well, seems our protagonists are in a bad situation, to say the very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very least. Very. With the whole of Minecraftia at stake, will our heroes win? Again, that's up to you guys. The poll is up on my profile so go check it out. The results are classified until the end, so feel free to vote for whoever you want. No pressure.**

**For those of you waiting to see just what the enemy is and are getting tired of these cliché heroes, don't worry, they'll be in the next chapter. I hope I can help you guys like them as much as I do. **

**Review and thank you for reading. I hope this chapter was better than the last one, and that they continue to get better. **

**teef rieht htaeneb krow ruo fo erawanu ,ecafrus eht no tghif yehT**


	3. Chapter 3

**Minecraftia Besieged**

**A Bad Start**

**(ALERT: If the poll is 0 to 0 then the enemy automatically wins!**

Andrew rushed to the front gates to find that everyone was waiting on him, once again. He ducked his head as he saw Michael and a few others glaring at him as he got into the already formed line. Alena spared him a worried glance, but that was it.

"Alright everyone, we've been given a mission of upmost importance," Michael told them from the front of the line, pacing back and forth, "This has the possibility to win this war, but it's doubtful that most of us will survive. In fact, I'd be surprised if any of us made it out of this alive." There was a worried murmuring that erupted from the soldiers; after all, they'd signed on to fight a war, not die in one. "Now, in a situation like this, I'd give you all a chance to back out of this mission, to preserve yourselves. But that isn't happening today. This mission's too damned important to back out on, so let's move out."

Michael set out without looking behind him. He knew from the sound of marching feet that his troops were behind him. Maybe not one hundred percent, maybe not happily, but they were there and that's all he needed them to do. If even one of them had spoken out he wasn't sure if he would have been able to force them to go.

- ... .

Andrew trudged through tall grass, inwardly cursing his aching feet. They had been marching nonstop since they first set out and it was well past noon. They had eaten on the road, until the road had disappeared. Then they had been forced to trust the general's map and compass to get them to shelter for the night. Up ahead, Andrew could just make out the Darkwoods, a gigantic forest with towering trees and a grand, interlocking canopy that made it almost impossible for most sunlight to get through. The forest had a bad history with Minecraftians as it was able to protect monsters from the sun's killing rays, thus making them constantly a threat to the people who attempted to colonize the forest.

This was exactly why they were heading for the sea, hoping to entirely avoid the area. There was a pretty sizeable port city a few chunks away from the Darkwoods that had been locked and fortified against the enemy. It was one of the only strongholds within enemy territory that had survived first, second, and prolonged contact with the enemy. It also happened to be a mere two weeks away from where the enemy's superiors were to meet up. At the port city, named Polis, they'd hopefully be able to rest up for a week there before setting off to complete their mission.

That'd give them a week to allow for any unseen circumstances and still reach their targets. Of course, it'd be much faster to travel through the Darkwoods, but while normal monsters were engaged in fighting the enemy as wholeheartedly as any human Minecraftian, that didn't mean they'd pass up the opportunity to kill a human if the chance arose off of the battlefield. This made traveling through the Darkwoods as much a danger to their mission as running into an army of the enemy.

Andrew was brought out of his musings by a sharp elbow in his ribs, focusing a glare on Alena who was pointing at something in the distance. He followed her gaze to something that settled a cold pit in his stomach; a plume of smoke rising in the distance. Exactly where Polis was situated.

"Alright boys and girls, let's double time it!" Michael shouted to his troops before leading them on a run to the port city.

.-.. - ... –

When they reached the port city, they were relieved to find the gates still locked. Polis had one of the best archery platoons in all of Minecraftia and if they enemy hadn't gotten in through the gates then there was no way they'd get in through the sky. It was likely just a fire in the middle of town. That was still a problem, but a lot less so than the enemy.

"Hello?" Michael shouted up at the parapets, a relieved smile on his face, "Gatekeepers, open up! We're on an urgent mission from Stonewall!"

There was no reply.

The general looked around at his troops with an exasperated look on his face, though it was slowly being replaced with worry. "Marshall, climb over and open up the gates for us," he told a scrawny youth who had been assigned to the company only a month ago. He was adept at climbing, or "parkour", as he liked to call it. Marshall nodded and began climbing up the walls while the rest of the company watched him, all rather amazed at the young man's skills.

For Marshall, something like that was a piece of cake. He grew up in Stonewall, which was the largest of all the cities on Minecraftia, giving him plenty of targets to practice his skills. He was up on top of the wall in less than a minute and got to see first what had happened to Polis. There wasn't one central fire in the port city, but multiple dying out spread out across Polis. There were no bodies in the streets but the buildings in the city were in bad condition. It was obvious that the city had been attacked and most likely by the enemy. But it was unlike anything the youth had seen in his relatively long time surviving the enemy.

The enemy didn't care about bodies or hiding themselves. They killed and inhabited an area until they were forced to leave, it was unlike them to clear out a town and take evidence with them. That was the only thing that gave Marshall pause about deciding just what had done this. Then he shook his head and cleared his mind of the matter; he'd leave it up to General Bladehold.

He jumped down inside the town and hit the lever to open the gate, thus letting in the rest of his company, letting them view the lack of carnage for themselves. There was a quiet mutter from the troops, though Andrew was unusually silent, even for him. Before Marshall could contemplate this General Bladehold was calling the attention of his men. "All right men, night's almost upon us and we need to find a place to stay the night. There's been no sign of the enemy so far, so we're going to head to Polis' barracks and hole up there for the night. We'll set up a watch once we're all settled, and then we'll set out in the morning."

Most of the troops muttered what Marshall could only guess what was general assent, but the soldier he knew as Alena spoke up, "Sir, aren't we going to find out what happened to Polis?"

General Bladehold looked around gravely at the wrecked city then back at Alena. "I think I can figure it out. This was no mob attack. Now move out!"

.- -. -..

Andrew and Alena were two of the six assigned to the guard duty to begin in an hour, though the two were already awake. It was nearing midnight and most of the company was asleep, making it eerily quiet in the barracks. There was no sign of the enemy so far, which had instilled confidence in the company. After all, the enemy was never one to wait. If they saw an uninfected Minecraftian, or one with any sense left at all, they'd attack immediately without care for self preservation.

Andrew didn't want to fall asleep and Alena was too busy worrying about him to sleep. And so they sat in uncomfortable silence, waiting for their watch to come. Until Andrew suddenly broke it, "Alena, you should leave."

Alena's head whipped around to look at her companion. "What are you talking about?"

"Leave this city, get back to Stonewall. Get whatever supplies you can and head to the Nether. The enemy hasn't made it there yet, and there's already an outpost there."

Alena stared at him. "I'm going to ask you again, what are you talking about?

"Dammit Alena, this is a suicide mission!" Andrew whisper yelled at her, careful not to wake the other soldiers. "You need to leave before we go any deeper into their territory."

"Are you stupid?"

"Alena-"

"No. I'm not going anywhere without you, Andrew." Andrew went silent at that, frustration painted on his face. Alena's face softened as she looked at her best friend in so much pain. She opened her mouth to ask the question that had been on her mind since the day before when a bloodcurdling scream pierced the night air.

"What the hell?" a half-asleep soldier asked blearily, sitting up in his sleeping bag. Andrew and Alena wasted no time gathering their weapons and racing towards the scream. They were barely armed and not at all armored, and as they saw what they were going up against they desperately wished they had some form of armor.

It was easily ten feet tall, though it's eight legs were bent so it was probably much taller than it appeared. It was blue in color, with flesh on it's underbelly and metal on top of its legs, back, and heads. It had three, metal-coated heads, each the size of Andrew's upper body and seperated by one leg each. Each head had four mandibles lined with serated teeth which were in plain sight as all three heads let out the war scream that they had heard.

There was one man fending off the large monster with a spear and as the pair ran down to assist him, they were shocked to see the monster grab the man in its jaws, using its upper mandibles to shovel the man into its mouth and swallow him whole. It didn't end there. As they, and the other soldiers who had finally gotten ready for battle, watched the creature grew in size. It wasn't one particular part of the creature that grew; all of it did. Before their very eyes the monster grew another five feet tall, its legs growing longer, metal thicker, heads bigger. As it finished growing all three eye-less heads turned to stare at the gathered soldiers, the creature going deathly still. No one spoke or moved, staring at the impossible monster and praying that they wouldn't be it's next victim.

Unfortunately, as they Minecraftians and the monster had their deadly staring contest, the humans failed to notice smaller versions of the creature climbing on the buildings around them until the smaller monsters jumped down into the unsuspecting crowd. There were only around a dozen of the smaller monsters, but each were six feet tall and as they ate their first prey, they quickly grew to ten feet tall. The big monster moved with a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a creature of its size and crashed past the front lines, it's three heads snapping up soldiers whole, and it grew after each body it ingested.

Andrew and Alena ran from the monsters. There was nothing else they could do. They had never even heard of these new forms of the enemy, let alone how to fight them. Over the cries and deaths of their bretheren and the feasting of the enemy they could barely hear Michael yelling over the din for a retreat to the Darkwoods. All those still alive, and those who had not already started, ran for the gates of Polis.

The first monster, which was now bigger than most of the buildings in Polis, let out three simultaneous, massive roars and watched with the barest hints of satisfaction as the humans, barely half of their starting number, retreated, its brothers chasing them out. Uulvax would be pleased.

- ... .

They crashed carelessly through the forest, eager being an understatement for how badly the wanted to be away from Polis. The trees of Darkwood had long since blocked out any light the moon and stars might have provided, so the Minecraftians had no way to know if they had lost the enemy or even where they were going. Still, they ran on, all tripping over roots and branches, not caring, just desperate to escape certain death. Even Michael was terrified.

In his four years of fighting the enemy he had never seen something so powerful and utterly frightening. How could a suicide mission into the heart of enemy territory possibly help win the war? Realizing what he had just thought, Michael shook his head and stopped running. "Everyone stop!" he shouted, trying to restore order, "We've lost them, so rest for a minute."

He could only hear his men stumbling around blindly in the dark as they went towards his voice, so he kept talking. "Come on, everyone get over here. We can't get seperated in this forest. Follow my voice and we'll start finding a way out of here," He could just barely make out the outlines of his troops gathered around him, and was aghast to see that there were only around three or four dozen left. he had started with one hundred men.

"Alright, once the sun comes up and we get some light in here we're going to found our way north and continue with the mission," as expected, this brought more than a little argument.

"Are you crazy?" Andrew shouted, elbowing his way to where he was ninety percent sure Michael was, "We've lost over half of our platoon in the first day, and you expect us to continue?"

"I told you from the start that this was a suicide mission," Michael said calmly, his voice ringing clear over the din. "We're going to finish this mission or die trying, because it's the only choice we have. Sure we could all be traitors and cowards and abandon the mission, maybe find some secluded corner of the world to hide in and wait for the enemy to find us. Hell, we might even last more than a few years. Of course, if you did, you'd be condemning thousands of innocents to die or, even worse, become one of the enemy. If that's really what you want to do, then get the hell out of here, Cenric."

Silence followed and Andrew did not move. Nobody did, despite how much they might have wanted to. It was suicide to travel the Darkwoods alone.

"Well then, now that we're all on the same page, start climbing. We sleep in the canopy tonight," the general ordered, already beginning to climb the nearest tree when a new voice, cocky and full of contempt rang clear through the eerily silent forest.

"Notch, could you fools be any louder and obvious?"

-... .-. - -.- . -.

**Well now, I hope that sample of the enemy was enough to pique your interest. They had only a small part and the ones shown here are far from standard (on the frontlines, anyway) but still, I hope you all liked it. Now then, who could this mysterious vocie be? You'll find out next chapter.**

**Now, as you probably saw eariler in the chapter, if the poll goes unvoted, then I'm going to kill all Minecraftians. Because I'm that kind of person. The enemy will win, the Minecraftian Resistance will crumble, and the chances of our heroes surviving will be less than zero. So, if you want the humans to win, start voting for them. On the flipside, if you don't want the humans to win, still vote. The results are secret so you never know when the Minecraftians might start winning in the polls.**

**We'll likely see more of the enemy in the next chapter, though probably not in a action scene. Either way, it might be a little slow, but I hope that doesn't stop you from reading it. **

**Thank you for reading once more, and please review.**

**scitereh eht ot noitcefrep sdaerps dna sgnisselb ruo stpecca ylidaer aes ehT**


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